


Double Jeapordy

by felineranger



Series: Doubles [2]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-30
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felineranger/pseuds/felineranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Double Trouble. Just as Lister's getting used to life without Rimmer, he turns up unexpectedly bringing big trouble with him. It's time for all the secrets to come out, and it's time for them to face up to the past - and each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As this is a sequel, it will probably not make any sense unless you've read 'Double Trouble' first. It's set early series 8, after the nanobots have rebuilt Red Dwarf - but in an AU where the crew have not been resurrected and the boys never picked up Kochanski (nothing against Kochanski, but Lister's love life is complicated enough in this dimension!)

            Lister stepped into the shower and started to clean himself at a leisurely pace.  Rimmer had been gone for almost a year, and although Lister did still frequently catch himself missing his old companion, it was nice to be able to take a shower without the threat of an unnecessary emergency drill hanging over him.  He was certain Rimmer had timed them deliberately just to annoy him.  It was also nice to be able to stretch out.  The nanobots seemed to have rebuilt everything on Red Dwarf just that little bit bigger than he remembered.

            His soapy fingers slid over a small ridge of scar tissue low down on his back and he winced.  Not because the wound was still painful, but because the memories it brought back still were.  _Love hurts_ , he thought to himself, as he always did on these occasions.  _Especially when it’s expressed through sharp objects._ He often found himself thinking about Rimmer whilst in the shower.  Both of them.  It was difficult not to.  The scars always brought the image of that face floating to the front of Lister’s mind like a summoning charm; the familiar features shared by both his tormentor and his saviour.  One who’d gone to insane lengths to try and be with him forever, the other who’d taken the decision to leave and never see him again.

            Yes, the thought of Rimmer summoned some very mixed emotions.  But whatever those emotions were, Lister reminded himself as he switched off the water supply and wrapped a towel around himself, they were pointless now.  Both Rimmers were gone, for better or worse, and the memories – and the scars – were just something he had to live with. 

            It came as quite a shock, having just been through all this in his head, to step out of the bathroom and find Rimmer standing in the doorway of his quarters.

            “Hello, Listy,” he smiled.  Lister stared at him, dumbstruck.  His first thought on seeing the flowing hair and shining gold flightsuit had been _Ace_ , but the voice was all Rimmer’s.  Of course Rimmer _was_ Ace now, wasn’t he?  But something wasn’t right.  He knew he should be pleased to see Rimmer standing here, that he should feel happy, but instead he felt uneasy.  Something felt wrong, more than just the sight of Rimmer in Ace’s clothes, but he couldn’t pinpoint what.  And if this wasn’t the Rimmer who’d left him all those months ago, that could only mean one thing.  He thought of all those tiny coffins and swallowed hard. 

            “Is it really you?” he asked anxiously, hoping that he was wrong, that any moment now there would be some familiar little movement, some tiny clue that he would recognise to put his mind at rest.  Rimmer came towards him, “Of course it’s me.  Who else would it be?”

“It’s just...you seem different.”

“What did you expect?  I’m Ace now.  Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

“Well, yeah,” Lister said weakly, “It’s just a bit of a shock, man.  I was just thinking about you and then suddenly here you are in my room.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“I don’t know.  It doesn’t matter,” Lister said awkwardly.  They stood face to face.  Lister fought an irrational urge to back away.  “Take the wig off,” he blurted out suddenly.  Rimmer raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“I want to see you as you.  The real you.”

“Why?” There was a flash of something sinister in Rimmer’s eyes and this time Lister did back away, “I thought you liked Ace’s hair.”

“I liked it on Ace,” Lister whispered.

“So, I’m not good enough.  Is that it?” 

            Lister tried to edge away, to put the table between them, but he was too slow.  Rimmer grabbed his wrist and yanked him towards him, “Even with the wig and the clothes and all the rest?  That’s not enough for you?”  Lister stared at him. 

“Who are you?” he demanded, “You’re not Rimmer.  Not _my_ Rimmer.”

“ _Your_ Rimmer?”  The man flushed purple, “Tell me, what exactly does a man have to do to become _your_ Rimmer?”

“ _Who are you?!_ ” Lister shouted angrily.  The man grabbed him hard by the throat and shoved him back violently against the wall.  “Can’t you guess?” he hissed.  He began to squeeze tightly.  Lister struggled as best he could but, as he already knew from bitter experience, hard-light holograms were strong.  Just as his vision started to fade to grey, he was suddenly dropped.  He sagged to the floor, wheezing.

            When he opened his eyes again, he was sure he was either unconscious or hallucinating.  Now there were two Rimmers, wrestling in the middle of his quarters.  They crashed into the table and a stale can of lager toppled over and spilt over the floor.  The cold puddle spread around Lister’s hand, and its wetness and smell were real enough to convince him this wasn’t a dream.  He staggered to his feet, stumbled to the cupboard and managed to unearth a small handgun.  He cocked it, and when he turned back to face the two Rimmers, one of them had managed to pin the other in an arm-lock.  “Hello, Listy,” he said pleasantly; and this time the voice was familiar. 

            “Rimmer?” Lister asked, utterly confused now.

“Yes, it’s me,”

“Me, who?” Lister demanded, somewhat hysterically, “Which me?  What the smeg is going on here?” He pointed the gun at first one Rimmer then the other. 

“You don’t remember me?” the Rimmer in the arm-lock spat viciously, his wig askew, “Then let me give you a reminder.  My name’s tattooed on your back.”

“What?” Lister asked perplexed.

“That’s enough!” the other Rimmer started to wrestle him towards the door.  He threw an apologetic glance at Lister.  “Just let me take care of this and then we’ll talk, okay?”

“Talk,” Lister repeated, “Yes.  Good.”  He set the gun down on the table hesitantly.

“Listy?”

“Yes?”

“You might want to retrieve your towel.”

            Lister went one better on that advice and got dressed.  Then he sat down on his bunk and tried to decipher what had just happened.  He hadn’t felt like this since the last time he’d had some of that marijuana gin.  Half an hour later, Rimmer returned, without his wig.  “The game’s up,” he sighed, “I just saw Kryten and Cat and had to explain things to them.  Starting with why there were two of me and why one of them still had my wig in his teeth.”

“Interesting conversation?”

“You could say that.  In the circumstances I kept it brief.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Good,” Rimmer said succinctly, “How about you?”

“You mean aside from the fact someone just tried to kill me?”

“Yes, I’m sorry about that.  I wish I could have returned under better circumstances.”

“So, what’s happening?”

“I locked him in the quarantine suite. It should hold him for now.”    

“I meant in more general terms.  As in, why did some other version of you just try to strangle me?  He thinks I’m somebody else, right?” Lister said, baffled.

“No,” Rimmer said flatly, “He knows exactly who you are.”

“A different version of me then.”

“No.”

“But what he said to me...it doesn’t make sense.  I don’t have a tattoo on my back.  There’s only...y’know...” he flicked a slightly embarrassed glance downwards, “...on my thigh.  And he’s sure as hell not Petersen.”

“It wasn’t, strictly speaking, a tattoo,” Rimmer said uncomfortably.

“What are you talking about?”

            Rimmer sighed deeply and gestured silently for Lister to follow him.  They entered the Cat’s mirror-strewn quarters.  “Stand there,” he pointed to a space surrounded by full-length mirrors angled to give a 360 degree view, “And lift up your shirt at the back.”  Lister did.  Just above the waistband of his trousers it was possible to see some of the traces of pink scar tissue.  He’d never seen them properly before.  He gently eased the material down a little and stared in dumb shock at what was revealed.  “I knew there were scars,” he finally said softly, “but I never realised...”

“No,” Rimmer said quietly, “Seeing as you’re not the vain creature Cat is, we thought you probably never would.  And we decided not to tell you because we thought maybe that was for the best.”

            The letters stood out on Lister’s skin, clear to read despite the backwards mirror-image.  They’d been carved there over a year ago with a chisel.  They said **AJR**. 

            Lister stared at them for a moment longer, then pulled his shirt back down to cover them and turned to face Rimmer, “That’s not all you decided not to tell me.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.”

“You told me you’d flushed his light-bee into space.”

“I should have done.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m a fool.”

“Don’t give me that smeg, Rimmer.  I don’t care that you lied, I just want to know why.”

“Lots of reasons.”

“Like?”

“Like because you wouldn’t have done it,”

“It wasn’t my decision,” Lister reminded him.

“Alright then.  Because he _would_ have done it and I didn’t want to be like him.  Because whenever I looked at that light-bee it made me feel like I wasn’t such a bad person.  And it reminded me I could still be a better person.  Are those good enough reasons?”

“So what did you do with it?”

“I put it in a shoebox at the back of the wardrobe and took the shoebox with me when I left.”

“So why is he now re-activated and locked up in our quarantine suite?”

            Rimmer shook his head and ran his hands back anxiously through his short curls.  “I don’t know exactly.  I went through an electrical storm a couple of weeks ago and Wildfire took a couple of direct hits.  I managed to set her down in a derelict space-station to do a few repairs and thought I would hole up for the night to wait the storm out.  I did what I could before going to sleep.  Then, in the night, a noise woke me up.  When I opened my eyes, he was there, rummaging in one of the cupboards.  At first I thought it was a dream, but then he turned around and when I saw his eyes I knew it was him.  He was holding the light-bee remote.  Before I could do anything he’d used it to change his settings to Ace, then he threw the remote at me and bolted.  I went after him, but I’d only just woken up so I was a bit slow off the line.  By the time I’d got myself out of bed and off the ship he was already climbing into a pod.”

“How did you know he’d come back here?”

“Where else would he go but to you?” Rimmer shrugged.   

            Lister sighed sadly and closed his eyes; when he opened them again he looked annoyed, “I wish you’d told me the truth.”

“Really?  How well do you think you’d have slept for the past year if I had?”

“I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be after what he did to you.”

“I know very well what he did to me, Rimmer.  I’m the one with the scars, remember?” Lister snapped suddenly, “The scars you thought it was best I didn’t know about!  I deserved to know the truth!  About everything!”

“I didn’t want you to spend a lifetime looking over your shoulder for a threat that was, as far as I was concerned, non-existent.  You’d been through enough already.”

“Don’t you dare patronise me!  I would have coped and you know it!  Why are you so determined to treat me like one of your dappy damsels in distress?”

“Because I don’t want any more of your scars on my conscience!”  Rimmer snapped back.

            Lister’s anger immediately cooled, “You know I don’t blame you for what happened,” he said softly.

“Let’s not go back into all that,” Rimmer said briskly, “I just don’t want it to happen again.  Not now, not ever.  I’m going to flush him this time.”

“You can’t do that,” Lister said, pained.

“Watch me.”

“It’s wrong.”

“ _He’s_ wrong.”

“He needs help.  He’s messed up.”

“A minute ago you were telling me I should have done it before.”

“I didn’t say that.  I just said I wished you’d told me the truth.  Maybe if I go down there and talk to him...”

“No,” Rimmer said sharply, “You don’t talk to him, you don’t look at him, you don’t go anywhere near him.  It’ll only make things worse.”

“So what then?” Lister asked, frustrated.  “What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know,” Rimmer said, equally frustrated, “I’ll think of something.  Just stay away from him and let me deal with this.”


	2. Chapter 2

            Later that day, Rimmer called a meeting in the Drive Room to discuss the situation.  Lister saw Kryten and Cat watching him anxiously as he entered the room and felt a flash of annoyance.  “You don’t have to look so worried,” he told them sharply, before either of them had a chance to speak, “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are, Sir,” Kryten said soothingly, “But all the same, you’ve had quite a shock...”

“We all have,” Lister interrupted shortly, “None of us were expecting this.”

“Yeah, but no-one’s tried to choke _us_ ,” Cat pointed out bluntly.

“I’m fine,” Lister repeated icily.  To his exasperation, the feline and mechanoid shared a doubtful look, but they didn’t say anything more.

            “Gentlemen,” Rimmer cleared his throat, “You all know the score.  My duplicate is under house arrest in the quarantine suite.  We have to make a decision as to his future and my suggestion is that we put it to the vote.  My vote is that we de-activate him and eject his light-bee into space.” 

“Hang on just a smegging minute!” Lister straightened up angrily, “We talked about this, Rimmer.  You know how I feel...”

“And now I’m asking how everyone else feels.”

“This isn’t _about_ everyone else.”

“While we’re all part of this crew, it is.”

“You haven’t been part of this crew for almost a year,” Lister growled, “You can’t come swanning back and start telling us what to do!”

“I’m not telling anyone what to do.  I’m opening a debate.  Everyone gets a say.”

“Fine.  You know my vote,” Lister folded his arms and fixed him with a glare.

“Cat?” Rimmer asked.

“I say flush him,” Cat replied without hesitation.  Lister, surprised and hurt, stopped glaring at Rimmer and turned to glare at Cat instead, “Whose side are you on?” he asked angrily. 

“Your side, buddy,” Cat said gravely, “You can try telling me you’re fine, but I got sharper eyes than these guys and I can see the bruises coming up on your neck - and don’t try telling me they don’t hurt.  I can tell by the way you’re moving they do.  I don’t like joining forces with _him_ ,” he jerked a thumb at Rimmer, “but I think it’s the only way you’re going to be safe.”

“That leaves you, Kryten,” Rimmer turned to him expectantly.  The mech fidgeted anxiously.  “I’m sorry, Mr Rimmer.  While every circuit in my body would like to side with you on this, my programming forbids it.  Mister Lister is human and therefore his wishes take priority over my own.  And as a mechanoid I cannot collaborate in the taking of a life.  Therefore I must vote against you.”

“Two score draw,” Lister said, “Stalemate.  That means we think of something else.”

“Not yet,” Rimmer replied, “Holly hasn’t voted.”

“Holly’s mechanical.  He’ll vote the same way as Kryten,” Lister said hotly.

“Not necessarily.  I think we should find out.  Holly!”

            The computer popped into view on the monitor, “What?”

“We need your vote on an important issue,” Rimmer told him.

“How important?”

“Life or death.”

“Blimey.  Go on, then.”

“My double,” Rimmer expanded, “Do we keep him onboard and risk him being a danger to the whole crew?  Or do we flush him into space?”

“Hmmm...” Holly’s forehead wrinkled, “If you ask me, you’d better keep him.”  Lister smiled smugly, “Machines believe in the sanctity of life, eh, Hol?”

“Not really,” Holly gave a face-shrug, which was the best he could do without shoulders, “He’s already dead, so it’s a moot point really.  But you can bet that if you flush him, you’ll find out sooner or later that you need him to lift an ancient curse, or diffuse a cunningly devised bomb, or translate some weird alien manuscript.  And then it will be too late.  Better to be safe than sorry, eh?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Rimmer snapped, “You think we should keep a psycho in here with us because you’ve seen one too many movies?”

“You asked,” Holly replied and winked off the screen in a huff.

            “Three to two,” Lister said triumphantly, “I win.”

“Okay, fine,” Rimmer said grudgingly, “So what’s your plan, then?”

“Rehabilitation.  We fix him.”

“You think you can turn this around with ink blots and group therapy?!” Rimmer asked scathingly. 

“I think that we have the software to do a little programme modification and get him back to normal,” Lister told him.

“That _Light-Suite_ thing we picked up on the _Branson_?” Rimmer asked him sceptically, “We’ve got no idea how well that would work.  If the personality disorder runs deep enough it could overwrite any changes we make.  Or it could make things worse.”

“He was confident enough it would work on me,” Lister replied calmly.

“ _You_ are not mentally unstable, although I’m starting to have my doubts....”

“If all else fails,” Lister said patiently, “We’ve got a last resort.  We use the memory modifier.  Wipe all memory of me out of his head.  Start afresh.”

“And if the fixation starts from fresh all over again?  What then, Lister?”

“Then we worry about it when it happens.”

“You mean we worry about it when we find him standing over your dead body in the night with a knife.”

“We have to give this a try.  We have to give him a chance.”

            Rimmer’s expression suggested he didn’t think they had to do any such thing.  “He’ll never agree to it.  And he has to be online for the programme to run.”

“He might agree if he thinks the alternative is the garbage cannon.  We just have to convince him.”

“And in the meantime?”

“In the meantime we keep a close eye on the quarantine suite.  Holly can monitor him almost 24/7.  We can check on him from time to time as well.”

“Yes, _we_ can,” Rimmer repeated, motioning to himself, Cat and Kryten, “Not you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Until I’m convinced he’s no longer a threat, you’re not going down there.”

“You’re being ridiculous.  He’s locked in a hermetically-sealed room.  There’s no harm in me looking through the window now and then to make sure he’s not up to anything.”

“We can’t be too careful.”

“What are you so scared of?” Lister demanded, frustrated, “What could possibly happen?”

“I don’t know and I don’t want to find out.”

“Perhaps, Sir,” Kryten interjected tactfully, “You should take a back seat just for now.  If we are successful in convincing the duplicate Mr Rimmer to let us...help...it should only be for a couple of days.”

“This is stupid!” Lister protested furiously.

“Drop it, Lister,” Rimmer said firmly, “Or vote or no vote, I’ll flush him and end this argument right now.  Don’t think I don’t mean it.”  Lister glowered at him, saw that he did mean it, and grudgingly relented.  “Fine,” he said curtly, “I’ll go and hide in my room then, shall I?  Seeing as I’m too fragile to play with the big boys.”  He turned and stomped away.  Kryten made to follow him but Rimmer held him back.  “Let him cool off.  He’ll see sense once he’s calmed down.”


	3. Chapter 3

            Needless to say, Rimmer’s duplicate reacted to the offer of mental stability tuning more or less as they’d expected; but with perhaps slightly more swearing.  Rimmer had given him an ultimatum - submit to the personality edit or face the garbage chute of oblivion – and had given him three days to make a decision.  After it became apparent that the meeting had not gone well, Lister had offered to go down to the quarantine suite himself; “Why don’t you let me try talking to him, man?  Maybe he’d listen to me.  I mean, if I’m the reason he came back, then maybe I can be enough of a reason to change.”

“Forget it,” Rimmer said firmly, “This isn’t good cop, bad cop.  I’m not going to reward his uncooperative smeggery by sending you down there on a charm offensive to wheedle and plead with him to be reasonable.  If he thinks he can use this as a way of getting to you, he can forget it.  We are not doing this on his terms.”

“You know I’m the person with the best chance of getting him to agree to this.  If you won’t let me talk to him, how are we ever going to convince him that the mind-edit will be worth it?”

“Lister, as far as he’s concerned the only way it will be worth it is if the result is you, wrapped up in a big pink bow.  Telling him that everyone getting along being friends would really be much nicer is like offering a chain-smoker a lettuce leaf instead of a cigarette.  It’s just not going to cut it.”

“So what then?  We just stick him on death row and wait for the inevitable?”

            They’d argued for over an hour.  Rimmer hadn’t budged, but Lister had thrown down an ultimatum of his own.  If they weren’t willing to let him try to talk the double round, then they had to give him longer to make his decision, in the hope that he’d see sense on his own.  Reluctantly, Rimmer had relented.  “But,” he had added sternly, “The deal stays the same.  He stays in quarantine and you stay on the habitation decks.  No contact.  Is that clear?”

“Fine,” Lister had replied haughtily, “I’ll work on my knitting.”  Rimmer eyed him suspiciously, “You do that.”

            Six days later, there had been no change in state of play.  The double had stopped communicating with Rimmer, Cat and Kryten, and seemed to spend all his time silently playing cards.  Rimmer, braced for an argument, was avoiding Lister.  Lister, frustrated, was knitting a scarf that was now approximately fourteen feet long and still growing.  Everyone was on edge.

             Sometime close to seven pm, Lister dropped a stitch.  Cursing, he quickly tried to correct it, dropped another, and jabbed his thumb with the needle.  Swearing under his breath, he began to unravel the row to start again.  But once he’d started, he didn’t want to stop.  Before he knew it, he was pulling angrily at the wool, unwinding row after row like a magician pulling an infinite string of hankies out of a hat.  Finally he chucked the whole thing - scarf, needles and tangles of frayed wool to the floor and kicked it.  He couldn’t take this.  He had to do something.  “Holly?”

“Yes, Dave?”

“Where is everyone?”  

“Rimmer and Kryten are in the Drive Room.  Cat is napping in his quarters.  Do you want me to get them for you?”

“No.  No, leave them.  Cheers, Hol.”

A few minutes later, Lister stepped out of the lift, tapped his security code into the door for the quarantine bay and stepped through, somewhat furtively. He had no plans to stay in here any longer than necessary, and while he had no doubt that Rimmer’s double would not keep this visit a secret, with any luck he could say what he had to before anyone joined them.   

            He made for the small viewing booth, and took a moment to compose himself before going in.  He knew this was unlikely to be a pleasant experience, but he also knew he couldn’t turn back and walk away.  _Should’ve brought a smegging hand-puppet_ , he thought dismally, _Just to freak the bastard out.  At least I’d have something to laugh about later._  He took a deep breath, went in and switched on the light.

            The double was sitting at the table playing solitaire.  He looked up and when he saw Lister his eyes widened, then narrowed to small angry slits.  “Well, well,” he said sarcastically, “Hello, Clarice,”

“Very funny,” Lister remarked, “Now do the bit about the fava beans and the chianti.”

“You know, in the books they ended up together.”

“That’s stupid.  One lovers tiff and he’d have eaten her.”

“Love’s not always pretty, is it, Listy?”

“You’re telling me.”

            The double stood up and walked towards the glass, “I wondered how long it would take for you to come and see me.  Couldn’t stay away, could you? Does the bewigged ponce know you’re here?”

“He knows,” Lister said evenly.  The double eyed him carefully,

“You’re lying,” he said eventually, “I don’t think anyone knows you’re here; I don’t think they’d have let you come.  In fact, knowing you, I’d say that’s probably the main reason _why_ you’re here.”

“I’m not interested in what you think.”

 “Typical Listy,” the double continued, “You can never leave well enough alone.  You’re here because you want to know why you shouldn’t be.  Am I right?  You want to know why he’s so desperate to keep us apart.”

“I think I’ve got a fair idea,” Lister replied, with just a hint of sarcasm.

            “Really?” The double folded his arms, “So, tell me; why is he so against the idea of you visiting, do you think?”

“Because he thinks it’s unhealthy,” Lister shrugged, “For both of us.”

“So why _are_ you here?”

“Because I think differently,”

“How sweet,” the double sneered, “I tried to kill you and you still think that we can work things out if we just talk it over.”

“I’m not interested in working things out with you,” Lister said flatly, “I’m just here because you need to know – both of you – that I’m over what happened.  It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Are you saying you _forgive_ me?” the double asked disdainfully.

“No,” Lister replied shortly, “I’m saying I’m not scared of you.”

“Well, maybe you should be.”

“That’s what he keeps telling me.”  

“Maybe you should listen to him for once.”

“There’s not much you can do to me with six inches of plexi-glass between us,” Lister said calmly.  “That’s not what he’s worried about,” the double replied snidely, “And maybe it’s not what you should be worried about either.”

“Meaning?”

“You can’t guess?”

            “I didn’t come down here to play games with you,” Lister said impatiently, “If you’ve got something to say, man, then say it.”

“Come in here and I’ll tell you.  After all,” the double smirked, “ _You’re_ not scared, are you?”  Lister didn’t move, and the smirk got bigger.  “I thought so.  And the truly ironic thing is that you think you’re any safer out there than in here.”

“What are you saying to me?”

“I’m saying, Listy, that there are two Rimmers on this ship.  And only one of them is behind glass.”

“Only one of them has ever tried to kill me,” Lister reminded him sweetly.

“But not only one of them wants to do more than that,” the double told him, “And you know it.”

Lister shook his head, “He’s not like you, man.  I’d have thought you’d got the message by now.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” the double snarled, “I think we’re past that point.  What do you think we spent all those hours talking about in our quarters? Why else do you think he didn’t tell you everything he knew right away?”

“Because he didn’t want me to think...”

“Because he didn’t want you to _know_ , Lister,” the double said, “He thinks it’s just his dirty little secret.  It’s why he didn’t warn you before and it’s why he’s trying to keep you away from me now.  Because he doesn’t want you to _know_.  The stupid fool doesn’t understand you the way I do.”

“No, you certainly weren’t shy about showing your affection, were you?” Lister replied sarcastically.  “I didn’t delude myself that I had anything to lose,” the double replied bitterly.

            “So why did he decide to rescue me instead of taking you up on your very generous offer to share?” Lister asked sharply, “The secret was already out, right?  I’m sure the two of you could have figured out a rota or something.”

“He didn’t come to rescue you, Lister,” the double said scathingly, “He came to take back what was his.  Only he’s too much of a coward to take possession.”

“You really are messed up,” Lister said softly, “You’re an angry, jealous, spiteful little...”

“Ask yourself this,” the double interrupted impatiently.  He took a step towards the glass.  The slight rise of Lister’s viewing platform meant they were eye to eye.  “Have you ever met a version of me that _didn’t_ want to fuck you?” 

            Lister opened his mouth to reply but the image of a glowing holowhip hovered in front of his eyes and silenced him momentarily; and the memory of soft, wavy hair and a golden flight suit kept him silent for a moment more.  The double saw the uncertainty cloud his eyes and smiled grimly, “You see?  And the really pathetic thing is that after all this time you still try and plead ignorance.  You’re not that innocent, Listy.  You _know_ ,” he whispered poisonously.  

            Lister wanted to protest.  He wanted to say something that would shut this bastard up, prove his innocence, make all of this just go away.  But he couldn’t.  He couldn’t bring himself to speak at all.  The double, clearly enjoying his distress, reached up and touched the glass between them.  “Just you wait,” he hissed, “Sooner or later he’s going to want what we all want.  And he’s going to get sick of waiting for it.  As for me, I’m going to find a way out of here eventually.  And when I do...” he trailed off for just a second before smiling again, “...Well, let’s just say I have plans.”  Despite himself, Lister took a step back.  “Who knows?” the double grinned, “Maybe I’ll even make him watch.  That is,” he added, “If _he_ doesn’t get to you first.”

            A hand clapped down heavily on Lister’s shoulder, making him jump and cry out in alarm.  “Lister!”  He spun around to see Rimmer standing behind him, glowering furiously.  “What are you doing in here?” he demanded.  Lister heard the double snigger horribly behind him and he felt his cheeks burn red as he heard him say snidely, “Just as I thought.  You naughty boy.” 

            Unable to bring himself to look Rimmer in the eye, he pushed past him and ran out with his head down; but not before he’d heard his angry - and anxious -voice cut across his double’s laughter.  “ _What did you say to him_?”     


	4. Chapter 4

            Lister marched down the corridor, his heart pounding.  It was a lie, it had to be.  The nasty, bitter little smegger was just trying to make trouble.  It didn’t matter what he and all those other Rimmers had wanted from him; Lister knew that _his_ Rimmer just didn’t feel like that.  It wasn’t true; it _wasn’t_.....

 

Of course it was.

 

            He knew Rimmer loved him.  He had known it ever since he’d come to the rescue that day, stinking of three week old garbage and full of fiery wrath against his double.  No, even that wasn’t true.  There had been moments down the years, more frequently than he’d admit to himself even now, that he’d been aware of something – an undercurrent, a frisson - an _intensity_ to their relationship which they had always carefully ignored.  Even when it had been roared in his face, he had managed to skirt around exactly what it had meant.  The body swap, the incident with the triplicator and Rimmer’s lower self...  and Ace, of course.  Never forgetting Ace...

            But watching Rimmer and his double argue over him had been too obvious even for him to miss.  Even through a haze of pain, fear and concussion he had grasped quickly enough what the real score was.  But he had pushed the knowledge down inside himself and when Rimmer had spoken up tremulously ( _You know what he said...about us both wanting the same thing..._ ) he had played dumb, pretending both to Rimmer and himself; relieved to give - and be given - an escape route from a situation which had already caused enough problems.  Now, he had subconsciously decided, was not the time. 

            It was like that first twinge of toothache.  You knew sooner or later you’d have to go to the dentist, but you put it off and put it off and told yourself it was nothing, because you knew that that appointment, when it finally rolled around, was going to be a _bitch_.  But then Rimmer had left and that appointment had never been necessary.  So Lister had done the only sane thing; he had convinced himself there had never been an issue to begin with.

            Behind him he heard the thudding of footsteps as Rimmer caught up with him.  “Lister!”  Normally the fury and disapproval he heard chiming in the hologram’s voice would have made him smile, but not today.  He didn’t even slow down until a hand roughly grabbed his arm and spun him round; “Stop right there, miladdo!” Rimmer said angrily, “What did I tell you?  What part of ‘Stay Away’ was not clear to you?”

“I’m sorry!” Lister pulled his arm away, “I just felt like I needed to see him.”

“What did he say to you?” Rimmer demanded.

“Nothing,” Lister turned away, agitated, and started walking again.  Rimmer pursued him, “Nothing?  _Nothing_ , tra-la-la?!”

“Look, it was a just a lot of...horrible stuff, man.  It was what I should have expected and I wish I hadn’t gone in the first place.  Does that make things better?”

“No, it doesn’t!  Why didn’t you listen to me?”

“ _Because_ ,” Lister spun to face him so quickly that their faces nearly collided, “What happened that day is between me and him, Rimmer.  Not you.  It’s done, it’s happened, and you can’t change that by trying to step between us to soften the blows now.  This was something that I had to do.”

“And you think going in there and egging him on is going to help matters?”

“You make it sound like I was doing a bloody striptease!”

“Was that next on the agenda?”

“You’re unbelievable, man,” Lister shook his head in disgust and started walking away again.  Rimmer stopped him, “Wait...I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah,” Lister muttered, but without much feeling.

            “Do you see now why I didn’t want you getting involved with this?” Rimmer asked him, frustrated.  “Seeing you...Being around you...”  Lister looked up at him warily, “...It just makes him worse.”  Lister looked away again.

             “It... _feeds_...something sick inside him,” Rimmer continued, “He needs to let go of you, the _idea_ of you, everything.  And he can’t do that while you’re staring him in the face.”

“Is that why _you_ left?” Lister asked abruptly.  Silence fell between them like an anvil.

“What do you mean?” Rimmer asked crisply.

“Did you leave so you wouldn’t end up like him?  Tell me the truth!”  Lister looked him in the eyes and saw an internal battle taking place. 

            “Yes,” Rimmer finally said shortly, “Partly.”

“Partly?”

“I told you before.  Looking at that light-bee was a way of reminding myself that I was better than him.  Leaving was my way of living up to that.  I had to prove it to myself.  And to you.”

“You didn’t need to prove anything to me, man,” Lister said softly, “You were already my hero.”  Rimmer swallowed hard and looked away,

“No,” he said, “I was your Rimmer.  And that clearly wasn’t enough.”

“Enough for what?  What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means there were things you were willing to do for Ace that you would never have been willing to do for me,” Rimmer said flatly.

            Lister’s throat closed up.  It was a few seconds before he could manage a response.  “I...I don’t know what you...”

“Yes, you do,” Rimmer still wouldn’t look at him, “I know, Lister.  About Ace.  About the bath.  About the little rubber ducky.  All of it.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you actually believe that smeg he’s been telling you...” Lister stammered, but Rimmer interrupted him.  “He didn’t tell me, Lister.  You did.”  Lister stared at him wide-eyed, not understanding.  Rimmer sighed.  “That day.  In the medi-bay.  I think you were still fuzzy-headed from the concussion which is why you let it slip.  When I mentioned Ace, you made a joke about the rubber duck.”

“So?” Lister asked softly.  Rimmer finally turned to look at him.

“I never said anything to you about...the details,” he said uncomfortably, “And neither did he.  I checked.  But yet somehow you knew exactly what they were.”

            Lister stood for a moment like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a gigantic truth-bearing truck, then closed his eyes and sighed deeply, holding his head in his hands.  “Okay,” he said eventually, “Yeah.”  He opened his eyes again and met Rimmer’s gaze.  “It happened,” he admitted.

“You had sex with Ace?”  Lister rolled his eyes, embarrassed. How had this suddenly become about him? 

“Yes.”       

            They looked at one another, almost defiantly.  So here it was, cards on the table time for them both, and neither of them knew what to say.  In the end it was Rimmer who spoke first. “How did it happen?”

“Does it matter?” Lister asked peevishly.

“Yes,” Rimmer replied, unable to keep the hurt and anger out of his voice, “It matters.  I have to know...”

“Know what?”

“I have to know why,” Rimmer said simply.

“There is no ‘why’,” Lister said uncomfortably, “It just happened,”

“Sex doesn’t just happen,” Rimmer snapped, “One of you must have wanted it and one of you must have initiated it.  And I want to know who.”

“I’m not going to talk about this here,” Lister interrupted, “And certainly not in any detail.  If you really have to know then come back to the sleeping quarters and we’ll talk properly.”

“Okay,” Rimmer met the challenge, “Let’s do that.”

            They walked back to the room in a tense silence, avoiding each others eyes.  When the door was finally closed behind them, Lister found himself going to the other side of the room, putting some distance – and the table - between the two of them.  Rimmer also seemed to feel the need for a degree of seperation.  He leaned back against the door, arms folded in an unconvincing attempt at nonchalance.  “So?” he prompted. 

            “What do you want to know?” Lister asked him.  He pulled a chair out from the table, but instead of sitting down he rested his weight on the back, rocking it restlessly to and fro.  “Everything,” Rimmer said shortly, finding himself oddly gratified by Lister’s obvious discomfort, “All of it.  From the beginning.”

“You already know the beginning,” Lister told him, “You were there.  You heard him calling me.............”

             

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

_...“Skipper, got a mo?”_

 _“Go on,” Rimmer sneered, “He’s probably picked a ring.”  Lister shook his head and picked his feet off the table, happy to put an end to the conversation.  Normally he’d laugh off Rimmer’s obnoxiousness easily, but it was harder to do that when he could see the genuine pain Ace’s presence had caused him.  And the worst part was that Lister knew there was nothing he could do or say to ease that pain.  Some wounds went too deep and, if Lister was any judge, these ones went right back to Io.  Optimist though he was, he knew a lifetime of mental abuse could not be fixed with a few kind words._

 _He wandered into the empty quarters they’d awarded to Ace for the duration of his stay and was surprised to see him perched on the edge of the bunk, his breathing ragged, eyes closed, obviously in pain.  “Ace?  You okay, man?” he asked anxiously.  At the sound of his voice, Ace immediately sat bolt upright, “Ah, Skipper!  All the better for seeing you, my friend.  Listen,” he stood up and faced Lister awkwardly, “I’m damn embarrassed to say it, but I need a favour.  Obviously Cat’s in no shape to be of assistance and I haven’t the heart to pull Kryten away from his piano practise.  He’s making excellent progress, you know, and it’s only been twenty minutes.  And somehow I don’t think old Arnie would oblige me.”_

 _“Sure, man,” Lister offered, “Anything.”_

 _“It’s just...the old arm’s giving me a little trouble.  Nothing too severe, but I thought a good hot soak in the tub would do it some good.  Only...” Ace smiled at him helplessly in a ‘I know this sounds pathetic’ kind of way, “...I can’t quite seem to get my jacket off.  You couldn’t possibly...”_

 _“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Lister said quickly, stepping forward to help.  The fastenings were already unsnapped, he just had to guide the garment gently over the offending injury._

 _“Thanks, Skipper.  I feel like such a fool,” Ace shook his head in disgust at his own weakness.  “Don’t be stupid,” Lister told him, “It’s not a crime to ask for help.  Why didn’t you say something sooner?”_

 _“Too much going on,” Ace brushed his concern aside, “It’s not a big deal.”  Lister tossed the jacket onto the bed and couldn’t help the gasp of shock that escaped him when he saw the shape of the arm through Ace’s shirt.  “Smegging hell!”  Without waiting for an invitation he quickly ripped the shirt open up the sleeve to examine the damage properly.  Ace winced but said nothing.  “Not a big deal?” Lister repeated angrily, “Ace, your arm is broken!  Badly broken!”_

 _“I can pop it back in,” Ace gave a one-sided shrug, “It’ll be good as new.”_

 _“Like smeg it will.  I’m getting Kryten,”_

 _“Don’t bother him, Skipper.  He’s had a hard enough day already.”_

 _“You need help!”_

 _“It’s fine,” Ace took in Lister’s expression and smiled, “Really, Dave.  I’ve done it before.  I know what I’m doing.  It’s okay.”_

 _“Is there anything I can do?” Lister asked feebly, knowing full well that there wasn’t.  Ace smiled warmly, “There is actually.  You can stay with me.  Give me a slap if I go sissy and pass out again.”_

 _Ace unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the loops, then handed it to Lister who took it wordlessly.  Gingerly, Ace felt his arm, wincing slightly as he explored the damage.  “Okay,” he said finally, “Pass me that belt.”_

 _“Do you want me to tie a tourniquet?” Lister asked helpfully, “I know how to do it.”_

 _“That’s okay,” Ace said gently, “That’s not what I need.”  He took the belt and clenched it between his teeth.  Then, before Lister could stop him, he grasped the wrist of his bad arm, pulled sharply and twisted.  There was an awful cracking sound and Ace gritted his teeth and howled his pain into the leather.  Lister dashed forward and caught him by the shoulders as he swayed and went pale.  “Ace?  Ace!”_

 _After a moment, Ace raised his head and spat the belt out onto the floor.  “Ah, that’s better,” he said weakly, “Much better.”  He flexed the arm cautiously.  “It’ll need a bit of a tidy up, no doubt, but I reckon that’ll hold for now.”  He looked up into Lister’s face - he was still clinging to him - and smiled wanly.  “You’re shaking,” he said, “Are you alright?”_

 _Lister laughed unsteadily, “I’ve never seen anyone do that before, man.  That is nuts.”_

 _“Marines,” Ace grinned and shrugged, “We’re all a bit nuts, Skipper.  It’s in the job description.”  He stepped back and dragged his forearm across the sheen of pain-sweat on his forehead, “Damn, but I could use a cigar and a bath.”_

 _“Have a cigar,” Lister laughed, “I’ll run you a bath.  I reckon you’ve earned it.”_

 _While Ace sat on the side of the bunk, indulging in his one vice, Lister went into the bathroom and started the taps running.  The steam curled up around his face like soft kisses and he closed his eyes, relaxing and allowing himself to enjoy the sensation.  His heart was still racing.  There had been few heroes in Lister’s life.  He’d never known a father and what few male role models he’d had in life had been of a fairly poor standard.  Even Jim Bexley Speed - inspiration though he was - had been of little use to a young man who’d had more enthusiasm than talent for football and a tendency towards chubbiness rather than athleticism._

 _Ace was different.  A true hero.  Someone he could admire not just for his talent but for his soul.  Lister didn’t think he’d ever met anyone quite so amazing.  And to think, Rimmer could have been all of this, if only things had worked out differently.  He trailed a hand in the sudsy water as it neared the top of the bath.  Perfect.  “Ace?” he called, “_ _Bath_ _’s ready, man.”_

 _“Skipper,” Ace appeared in the doorway with a smile, “You are surely an angel from on high.  I don’t know how I’d have coped without you today.” He pitched the end of the cigar into the basin where it hissed softly and went out.  “Come off it,” Lister felt himself blushing with pride and hated himself for it, “I haven’t done anything except run you a bath.  In the circumstances, I feel like I’ve been a bit useless.”_

 _“Nonsense.  You’ve been by my side through everything that’s happened today and I’m grateful for it.  Truly.”_

 _“Well...Cheers, man,” Lister stood up, “Do you need anything else?”_

 _“Just one thing,” Ace smiled ruefully at him, “Help me get this damned shirt off, will you?”_

 _“Okay,” Lister smiled back._

 _He tried to help Ace raise both arms above his head but he just couldn’t do it.  The swelling was too bad.  Finally, with no other choice, he took hold of the already ripped edges of the sleeve and pulled, tearing the shirt from Ace’s body in ragged tatters.  “That’s one way of doing it,” Ace joked._

 _“Sorry,” Lister shrugged sheepishly, “I don’t think you could have worn it again anyway.  I’ll find you a new one.”_

 _“Don’t worry about it.  I’ve got more on the ship.”   Lister found himself eyeing the smooth bare chest before him.  Is this what Rimmer would look like if he actually stuck to that exercise regime of his?  If he actually ran those five miles he boasted about every day instead of just the parts when he knew Lister was watching him?  His gaze moved slowly upwards and their eyes met.  He realised he’d been staring.  “Sorry,” he forced himself to laugh, “It’s just...I’ve never ripped a guy’s clothes off before.”_

 _“Well,” Ace grinned, “Those guys out there don’t know what they’re missing.”  They laughed nervously but after a moment Ace’s face grew serious, “Honestly, Dave, I can manage now if you...want to go.”_

 _Lister looked into his face and saw something.  Nothing as obvious as want, or even desire, because Ace would never be that forward.  But something.  A choice being offered.  You can go.  Or you can stay.  And he realised, as his heart beat faster yet, that he wanted to stay.  “I...I’d better stay,” he managed, “Just to make sure you’re okay.”_

 _“Thank you,” Ace said softly._

 _He took a slow step back and, without taking his eyes from Lister, continued to undress himself.  Again, Lister found himself watching that body, so familiar and yet unfamiliar.  He knew Rimmer’s body inside out, had lived with it for years and even occupied it.  Looking at Ace was like looking at a butterfly you’d only ever known as a caterpillar.  Although - Lister’s eyes moved downwards - some things never changed._

 _He held Ace’s good arm and helped him ease himself down into the hot water.  Ace sighed with pleasure and sank down into the suds.  Lister perched on the side of the bath, “You okay?”_

 _“Never better, Davey, never better.  If they could bottle that ‘hot bath’ feeling they’d make billions.”_

 _“I’ve always been more of a shower man.”_

 _“That so?”_

 _“Yeah.  When you close your eyes, you can imagine you’re anywhere.  Walking in a rainstorm, underneath a waterfall...”_

 _“What a dreamer you are.  Can’t you think up any bathtime fantasies?”_

 _“I’m sure I could,” Lister’s voice faltered._

 _“Yes.  I’m sure you could.”_

 _Lister’s eyes fell on a long-handled scrubbing brush on the other side of the bath.  “Do you need me to scrub your back?” he asked timidly._

 _“I’m sure that would be lovely,” Ace replied carefully.  He sounded as though he were trying to keep his voice steady.  Lister reached for the scrubbing brush._

 _He told himself later it was an accident.  That it was just another embarrassing example of his pathological clumsiness.  He wouldn’t allow himself to think for even a moment that he might have over-reached just that tiny little bit on purpose.  Or that Ace’s hand, when he felt it, might have been pulling him rather than attempting to help him.  Either way, he ended up in the bath with a splash._

 _They looked at each other.  “Oops,” he said, somewhat unnecessarily._

 _“Yes.  Oops,” Ace agreed solemnly.  Lister became aware of something hard...very hard...beneath his hand.  He looked up at Ace, at his gentle relaxed smile, and his face flamed.  He couldn’t bring himself to look down...but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move his hand either.  Ace took in his mortified expression and his smile widened.  “It’s okay,” he said softly.  Lister was frozen, he couldn’t seem to move a muscle.  “Dave,” Ace pressed, now clearly suppressing laughter, “It’s fine.”  He leaned forward, gently took hold of Lister’s wrist and moved his hand back.  Between his legs, a bright yellow rubber duck burst up from beneath the suds._

 _Lister stared at it in a state of shock for a few seconds before bursting into fits of nervous, embarrassed laughter.  Ace smiled; but he didn’t laugh.  “You should get out of those wet clothes,” he told Lister softly, once he’d stopped laughing._

 _“Yes,” Lister agreed.  He didn’t move.  Ace was still holding his wrist and there was a look in his eyes that was offering much more now than just a choice.  Ace took a deep breath and seemed to compose himself slightly.  “You can still go,” he said, almost in a whisper, “If that’s what you want.  But I think you should do it now.”_

 _“Why?” Lister asked shakily._

 _“Because,” Ace told him, “If you don’t go now...I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”_

 _The words made Lister burn.  He was aroused, achingly so, but suddenly afraid as well.  He’d never done this before; he wasn’t sure what he wanted, what happened next.  Ace shuffled forward in the water and put his good hand on the side of Lister’s neck.  He made a small sound in his throat at the touch, his cock throbbed against the wet cloth soaked to it.  “I don’t want to...take advantage,” Ace whispered to him.  Lister shivered intensely despite the heat at the thought of all the different ways Ace could take advantage of him right here and now.  “I know it’s been...a long time for you,” Ace murmured, “Is this really what you want?” Lister closed his eyes.  The heat and the steam were making him dizzy and the feeling was compounded by the severe lack of blood reaching his brain._

 _He reached out, groping anxiously, maybe even desperately, and placed his hand on Ace’s slick wet chest, gazed pleadingly into his eyes.  Rimmer’s eyes; but not as he’d ever seen them before.  Warm and livid with desire.  How could something as intangible as emotion change a person so dramatically? This was so confusing.  He didn’t think he could form words right now.  Ace read the need in his face and seemed to reach a decision.  Gently, slowly, he pulled him into a kiss._

 _It was soft, tentative.  After a few delicious moments, Ace broke the contact.  He looked into Lister’s shining, shell-shocked eyes and took a deep breath to control himself.  “Last chance, Dave,” he said with difficulty, “Yes or no?”  Lister hesitated for just the briefest moment to consider the full implications of what he was doing, but a moment was all he needed.  “Yes,” he whispered softly.  Ace grinned charmingly, “Thank the gods for that.”_

 _He pulled him back into a fierce kiss, firmer and more demanding now and Lister responded with equal fervour.  Without breaking their kiss, he wrapped his good arm around Lister’s back and pulled him down on top of him, full-length in the tub, holding him to his chest.  Lister struggled out of his sopping clothes, tossing them into a sodden wet heap at the side of the bath, and folded himself eagerly back into Ace’s kiss.  Something incredibly hard pressed against his inner thigh and he gasped.  Ace broke off their kiss for a moment, “Damn duck...” he growled, rummaging roughly between their bodies for a moment and extracting the offending object.  He tossed it to the other end of the tub with a splash...._


	6. Chapter 6

            ....“And then what?” Rimmer demanded.  Lister shrugged awkwardly, throwing him an uneasy, almost coy, look, “You know what.”

“No, I don’t know.  I wasn’t there, was I?”

“You know what you need to know,” Lister said stubbornly.

“No, Lister, I don’t!” Rimmer said angrily, “I don’t know anything!  What you did to him...What you let him do to you...None of it!”

“And you’re not going to!  I’m not giving you all the gory details, man,” Lister snapped, “And you shouldn’t want them.  It’s sick!  It’s unhealthy!”

“I just want to know the truth!”

“No, you don’t!” Lister confronted him angrily, “You want a smegging scorecard and I’m not giving it to you!  This isn’t a competition and it never was!  Or is that the real reason you came back?  Forget the smegging double – saved a few worlds, defeated a few bad guys, tot up the points and that’s got to be worth at least one Lister-shag, right?  Well, I’m sorry but it doesn’t work like that!”

            “I didn’t come back here so I could fuck you,” Rimmer snapped sharply, and Lister was taken aback despite himself.  “Believe me, Lister, I never expected any such privilege.  I came back to protect you.  And I wish to all smeg that you were making it a little easier for me.” 

“I just wanted to talk to him,” Lister said again, looking away uncomfortably.

“About what?  Where you’re going on your holidays this year?  The two of you have nothing to discuss.  You shouldn’t _want_ to be anywhere near him!”

“You don’t under _stand_!” Lister shouted suddenly.  He kicked the chair away suddenly in frustration.  “You think you rescued me and that’s that.  You think just because you got me back in one piece that everything’s fine and dandy and I can walk away from what happened without a care in the world and let you take care of it all, but _I can’t do that!_ ” 

Rimmer stared at him in surprise, “Why not?” he asked simply.

“Because what happened still hurts!” Lister said angrily, “Okay, you stopped him from raping and killing me; but that doesn’t make the other stuff go away.  He tortured me, Rimmer!  He tied me up, he stripped me, he hit me and cut me and burnt me; and all of that’s not even the worst part.  The worst part is that when I close my eyes and think about what happened, it’s not the pain that comes back to me, it’s the sound of my own voice begging, _pleading_ , with him to stop.  It’s the humiliation.”

            Rimmer started to say something sarcastic about how the torture and the pain sounded like the worst part to him, and perhaps a year ago he would have said it.  But now he stopped himself.  For most of his life - and death - he’d considered humiliation to be the lesser of two evils.  Pride was the necessary price he’d paid to stop his brothers plucking out his armpit hair with tweezers, or to prevent his schoolbooks being flushed down the toilet by one bully after another.  Humiliation, he’d decided, hurt less than beatings.  Living his life as Ace had taught him many things, not least the ability to put his own pain aside when it really mattered.  That was a new concept for him.  Lister, on the other hand, had spent a lifetime taking the beatings, comforted by the knowledge that bruises healed quicker than pride.  Lister had never crawled to the bullies.  It was part of what made them different and something that Rimmer was only just coming to understand.

            “I have to get some kind of control back, man,” Lister told him, his voice shaking, “I have to show him that he didn’t break me.  That I’m okay.”

“But you’re not,” Rimmer said gently, “Are you?”

“I will be,” Lister told him fiercely, “If you just let me do what I have to and deal with this my own way!”

“Sticking two fingers up at him won’t make those scars on your back go away,” Rimmer told him softly, “And all the bravado in the world won’t help you if he manages to get his hands on you again.  And the more you provoke him, the more he’s going to be thinking of ways to do just that.”

“He can’t do anything to me while he’s locked in quarantine.”

“But we can’t keep him in there forever, Lister.  Why won’t you just let me flush him?”

“Because you know how I feel about the death penalty,” Lister said, turning away and picking up the chair he’d kicked over.  “And I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”

            The words made something click in Rimmer’s head.  “And that’s the truth, isn’t it?” he said disbelievingly.  Lister looked at him warily.  “You still think all of this is your fault somehow.”  Lister put the chair back and wouldn’t reply.  Rimmer cradled his head in disbelief, “You’re still making excuses for him, even now?”

“I’m not making any excuses,” Lister said stiffly, “I can’t forgive him for what he did.”

“But you won’t forgive yourself either.”  
“I was stupid.”

“You weren’t!”

“Yes, I was,” Lister replied more firmly.  “I should have realised what the problem was before it came to this.  I should have seen it coming and I should have done something.  But I didn’t.”

“You had no way of knowing...”

“Rimmer,” Lister interrupted wearily, “I knew.”  Rimmer stared at him, stunned. 

“I spent years in denial after what happened with Ace,” Lister said, ashamed, “I convinced myself that it meant nothing.  Barely a year later, that damn triplicator introduced me to your low-self and I found I was trying to convince myself of the same thing all over again.  Every time there was a hint of a suggestion that you might feel something for me, I pushed it away and ignored it because anything else would have been just too complicated.  He’s right.  I don’t have any grounds for claiming ignorance.  All the evidence was there.  But I didn’t know how to handle it, so I blanked it out. And that was wrong.”     

“And all these years I thought I was the coward out of the two of us,” Rimmer said with sarcasm. “It was _my_ problem, Lister.  It was my responsibility to say something.  Not yours.”

“I should have confronted you.”

“I would have denied it.” 

Lister smiled weakly, “I guess that makes us both cowards then, doesn’t it?”

            Rimmer sighed and turned to the door.  “Where are you going?” Lister asked anxiously.  “I need time to think,” Rimmer said simply.

 “What’s to think about?” Lister managed a small, ironic smile, “All we’ve done is confirm to each other things we both already knew.  What’s actually changed?” “Nothing,” Rimmer replied wearily, “And everything.  We can’t go back to how things were before, can we?”

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t know.  I can’t focus on anything until I’ve got the image of you and Ace out of my head.”

            Lister’s smile disappeared, “Does it really still matter that much?”

“Yes,” Rimmer replied with regret, “It does.”

“Why?  It was _years_ ago.  Things have changed.  Ace is _dead._ Can’t you just let it go?”

“No.  I don’t think I can.”

“This isn’t fair,” Lister said hotly, “You’re acting like I cheated on you or something.  You’ve got no right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry,” Rimmer said bitterly, “I’m jealous.  And I don’t suppose I have any right to feel that either, but I can’t help it.”

“I can’t change what happened,”

“Would you, if you could?”  Lister closed his eyes, despairing. “Well?”

Lister threw him a look, but chose not to answer.  Rimmer took that as an answer in itself.  He left.


	7. Chapter 7

            Lister went to the drinks cabinet, threw it open, selected a bottle at random, spun the cap off and took a deep long swig.  This day had not gone as planned.  He’d expected to feel better after confronting the double - more on top of things - but instead he’d opened a can of worms he had no idea how to deal with.  He slumped down into a chair and banged the bottle down morosely onto the table before him.  He felt deeply uncomfortable.  The idea of Rimmer knowing what had happened between him and Ace felt wrong in many different ways.  He’d spent too long trying to convince himself that the incident had never happened to be able to talk about it now without difficulty.  Revisiting those memories he’d tried so hard to repress was as painful as reopening the wounds on his back. 

            In fact, he felt more than uncomfortable; he felt ashamed.  Because, despite what he’d said to Rimmer just moments ago, he did feel like he’d cheated on him.  Because he _had_ noticed the jealousy, he _had_ noticed the possessiveness and what had he done in response?  He had laughed at Rimmer’s insecurities, dismissed his anxieties - _I don’t understand your attitude, Rimmer.  He’s you! -_  then walked down the corridor and negated everything he had just said by allowing himself to be seduced and fucked in a bathtub by the very person he’d just told Rimmer he had no reason to envy.  That, if nothing else, felt like a betrayal.

            But that wasn’t the only reason he hadn’t wanted Rimmer to know about it.  If Rimmer had known how _easy_ it had been, how effortlessly Ace had brushed aside first his defences, then his nerves and then finally all his inhibitions before bringing him to one helpless orgasm after another, well...it was humiliating.  It made him look desperate, slutty and, worst of all – vulnerable.  Rimmer had accused him of at least two of those things plenty of times over the years, but the third issue was not something Lister wanted Rimmer - either of them - to be aware of.  But Ace, of course, had seen it right away.  _I know it’s been a long time for you...I don’t want to take advantage_...  Lister thought again of those hazel eyes, the gentle touch of that strong hand upon his neck and an involuntary shiver went through him, making him feel ashamed all over again.  Ace _had_ taken advantage, had played his attention-and-sex –starved person like a flute; but he’d managed to do it with Lister’s full permission and somehow that was the most shameful thing of all.  

           

            Rimmer sat at the empty bar with a whisky, staring into the distance.  So Lister knew the truth.  The thing he’d lived in fear of for so long had finally happened and yet...it didn’t feel the way Rimmer thought it would.  He’d imagined shame, embarrassment.  But instead he just felt a kind of grudging regret; maybe because the pain was lessened by the fact he’d had a trump card of his own to play.  At least he wasn’t the only one feeling humiliated.  Lister hadn’t expected him to know about Ace.  A double-edged sword, that one.  It had been satisfying to pull the rug out from under his companion, but hearing the truth about what had happened that day (or Lister’s version of it anyway) didn’t make it any easier.  If anything, the knowing made it worse; and the memory of Lister’s voice as he described the event would haunt him for some time to come.  In his mind’s eye he saw Lister tearing Ace’s shirt from his body.  Ace, gleaming and naked, pulling Lister to him in the tub...Rimmer shook himself.  It was unbearable.  And made all the worse by the fact that the face of the man he hated was now his own.  And Lister still didn’t want him.

 

            Lister tilted the bottle to his lips and took another swig.  Now that he’d started thinking about this, the memories wouldn’t stop.  It _had_ been good, there was no denying it.  Perhaps too good.  Maybe the years of denial were about more than his embarrassment over what had happened.  Maybe, just maybe, Lister had simply not wanted to accept that he’d been given the best damn sex of his life by another man.  And certainly not by Arnold Judas Rimmer, in whatever shape or form. 

            But even if he had accepted it, even if he had come clean to Rimmer at the time, what would have been the point?  It had been another two years before Rimmer had even been capable of touching him, let alone fucking him.  The knowledge of what those slender fingers and skilful lips were capable of would surely have driven him mad if he’d allowed himself to dwell on it.  And would the fact that Lister would have been willing if only Rimmer was capable really have made Rimmer feel any better?  He doubted it somehow.  Burying the whole incident had been the best thing for them both. By the time Rimmer had acquired that hard-light drive, it was too late to change that.  Things had moved on. 

            Maybe that was why it was only after Rimmer had left, that his brain had decided it was safe to remind him.  The dreams had started.  The first night he’d imagined Rimmer returning, resplendent in his golden flight suit, a strange mix of smeghead and sex-god concocted by his subconscious; and he’d awoken, heart pounding, not knowing if the kiss that had felt so real was a vivid fantasy or an actual sensory flashback – and not sure which idea bothered him more. 

            Of course there’d been other dreams as well, less pleasant.  Dreams of being back on that transporter, bound and helpless, only it was Rimmer, or sometimes Ace who was torturing him, not his double.  Dreams where Rimmer had accepted his double’s offer; and of course, it had played on his mind countless times, asleep and awake, what would have happened if Rimmer hadn’t come to his rescue that day. 

            In fact, since Rimmer had left, he had very rarely been out of Lister’s mind – one way or another.  And yet even now, after everything they’d just confessed to each other, although Lister was fairly certain he knew how Rimmer felt about him...he still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Rimmer.  Or Ace.  Or the man locked up downstairs who would kill to be with him.

           

            Rimmer knocked back another whisky.  Would things have been better, he wondered, if his other damn incarnations had just stayed in their own universes, instead of barging in and complicating matters?  What would he and Lister be like now, what kind of relationship would they have, if Ace had never crashed his ship into their lives and raised the benchmark impossibly high?  If his double had never spiralled into that wormhole and twisted the difficult but safe relationship they’d managed to construct over the years into the mess they were now in?  Would they have become friends over time, accepting each other for who they were?  Could they even have become lovers if left to their own devices, without all the guilt, secrets, jealousy, resentment and sheer lunacy that had affected just about every interaction they’d ever shared?  Could they have been, if not together, then at least happy?

 

            Lister took another swallow from the bottle and cradled his head in his hands.  How had he messed everything up so badly?  How had he managed to drive one Rimmer out of his life and another Rimmer insane, without having a clue how he’d done it?  Despite all of the double’s bitter accusations, Lister didn’t think he’d ever consciously encouraged or sought Rimmer’s affections and, while he couldn’t in all honesty claim obliviousness to them, he didn’t think he’d ever exploited them either.  Except maybe once.  Well, okay, twice.  But neither of those moments had been out of pure selfishness.  When he’d told Rimmer he loved him on that Psi-moon, it had been for all their sakes.  None of them had wanted to die there, Rimmer included.  And when he’d dropped that stinging remark years later ( _You? The next Ace?  The very idea!_ ), not knowing what Rimmer knew, he’d thought he was doing the right thing.  He hadn’t realised the implications Rimmer would attach to his words or how much they would hurt.  He’d thought he was saying ‘ _Prove you’re man enough for the job_ ’.  Rimmer had heard ‘ _Prove you’re man enough for me._ ’

            Just how much had that one moment with Ace changed their lives?  How different might things have been for all of them if Lister had taken a deep breath, pulled himself together and walked out of that bathroom when Ace had offered him the chance?  Would Rimmer have still felt the need to leave him to show he could be a hero too?  Was the knowledge of what had happened and the resulting jealousy the thing that had tipped Rimmer’s double over the edge?  Was it the reason that Lister, in a dimension close by, might well be dead now?  Were the scars that he carried a direct result of that moment of weakness when he’d whispered ‘ _Yes_ ’?

            Lister drank deeply and his eyes darkened as a thought occurred.  If it was true, if all of this misery and mess had been caused by such a simple thing, then maybe – just maybe – there was a way to put it all right.


	8. Chapter 8

            Rimmer’s double was inside the tiny bathroom in the quarantine suite when he heard the swish of the hermetically-sealed main doors opening and closing.  He tensed and listened carefully.  The likeliest explanation was that his other self had come down here to try and finish him off.  Well, he wasn’t going to make it easy for the bastard.  No, Sir, he wouldn’t get the better of Arnie J so easily this time around.  He flung the door open and stopped in his tracks.

            Lister was standing alone in the centre of the room.  The double glanced around nervously, expecting a trap.  “What is this?” he finally said guardedly, “What are you doing in here?”

“That’s charming.  I thought you’d be pleased to see me,” Lister said liltingly.  The double narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  Something about the voice was slightly off, the words not quite articulated.  He stared at Lister hard and saw he was swaying slightly.  He shifted his gaze to his eyes.  Unfocused.  “Are you _drunk?_ ” he asked in disbelief.  Lister looked at him in surprise then started to laugh.  “What’s so funny?” he asked sharply.  Lister took a step forward, lost his balance and stumbled, then managed to steady himself against the bunk, still giggling.  _Very drunk_ , the double realised. 

             “You,” Lister shook his head, “Your moral compass is so fucked up.  Kidnap, rape and murder – all fine and dandy in your book.  But a guy has a few drinks and suddenly you’re all disapproval.”

“What are you doing in here?” the double snapped. 

“What do you think?” Lister asked huskily.

            The double stared at him.  This had to be a set-up.  Lister wandering in here of his own free will, so alone and so vulnerable, was far too perfect to be real.  “I think you’re up to something,” the double replied darkly.  He approached the bunk cautiously.  Lister didn’t back away.  If anything his expression was...inviting. “Tell me,” Rimmer said, “Which of your little buddies is watching us right now?”  _Please be the mech_ , he thought, _he’ll have to fetch help before he can do anything._

“Not a soul,” Lister smiled secretively, “Just you and me,”

“So if I were to do _this_ ,” he suddenly shot his arms out either side of Lister, trapping him against the bunk and leaning in close, “Nobody would come running in here with tazers and bazookoids, screaming at me to get my hands off you?”  Lister didn’t so much as flinch.  He flicked a playful glance at the doorway, “Don’t see anyone yet.”

            The double stared down into his face, trying to weigh up what was happening.  This didn’t make any sense.  He’d imagined various ways of breaking his way out of this prison.  He’d entertained himself with different daydreams of dispatching his other self and the rest of them in a multitude of horrible ways.  He’d fantasised about stalking Lister through the ship like a hunter pursuing a frightened deer, and what he would do to him once he was finally snared.  In all the fantasies he’d had while trapped in this small, sealed space he’d never even _bothered_ imagining this.  It was just too easy.           

            “What kind of game are you playing here, you manipulative little bastard?” he whispered.

“No game,” Lister whispered back.

“So why are you in here?”

“Why not?” he taunted, “I’m not scared of you, Rimsy,”

“No?” the double leaned in close to him, an erection already starting to swell, “Well, you should be.  If you’re really here alone, if you’ve got no-one waiting out there to protect you, to _save_ you, then I’d start getting scared right now, Listy.” 

“Of what?” Lister challenged, smiling.  The double stared at him, baffled.  Drunk or not, he wasn’t expecting to have to spell this out.  “You think you can just walk in here and stroll out again without giving me what I want?” he growled, “What I _deserve_?”

“I don’t know,” Lister challenged him, “You think you can take what you want without having to torture me first to get it up?”  The double slapped him, hard.  Lister drew himself up, wobbling only slightly as he did so.  “That would be a ‘no’ then,” he remarked, “We’ll have to work on that.”  He pulled the double towards him and kissed him deeply.

            The double drew in a sharp, shocked, breath.  Lister, unperturbed, pressed against him.  Then reached down and touched him.  Rimmer grabbed his wrist violently, then grabbed the other and shoved him back hard against the bunk, holding him tightly in place.  “What the hell is this?” he demanded angrily, “What are you playing at?  What is it you want?”  Lister looked back at him openly,

“I want you to fuck me,” he said simply.  The double, already hard, felt his cock throb with excitement at the words.  Still holding tightly to Lister’s wrists, he moved a step closer to him.  “And why,” he hissed, “Are you suddenly so willing to do me this honour?”  Lister opened his mouth as if to speak, but hesitated for a second before replying.  The double tightened his grip on his wrists and he gave a soft murmur of pain, “Well?”  Lister looked up at him, his expression lost, almost apologetic. “Just... evening up the scorecard...” he whispered softly.

 

            Rimmer put down his glass.  Enough was enough.  He couldn’t hide down here sulking forever.  They’d spent too much time over the years avoiding the truth and each other.  Now it was time to deal with the situation they’d got themselves into, and that included the nutcase below decks.  Rimmer didn’t think his double would accept the bargain, but he didn’t think Lister would be prepared to accept an outright execution either.  Which put him between a rock and a hard place.  He ran his fingers back through his hair and was jarred by the feel of his own unruly curls instead of the silky locks he’d become used to.  What would Ace do?  _He’d probably shag Lister into a state of such blissful sexual ecstasy that he’d agree to anything._ The thought was a bitter distraction.  Whatever Ace _would_ do, Rimmer knew what Ace _should_ do.  Ace should do whatever he had to in order to protect Lister.  He’d be furious, he might not ever forgive him, but he would be safe.  And for that, Rimmer was willing to take the consequences.

                       

            “What are you talking about?” the double snapped.

“I want to make things fair,” Lister said, stumbling slightly over his words, “If I’ve treated you all the same, then no-one has a right to be angry anymore.  You can all have what Ace had.”

“And what exactly did Ace have?” the double asked poisonously.  Lister looked back at him mockingly, “Whatever he wanted,” he said.  The double swallowed hard, torn between jealous rage and almost painful arousal.  “And why aren’t you upstairs right now, giving my esteemed duplicate everything he wants?  Or has he already been ticked off the list?”

“Can’t find him,” Lister replied with drunken honesty.

“So you came down here,” the double started to laugh, partly at the irony of the situation but also for another reason.  _Oh, Listy_ , he thought, _you silly, drunken fool. You’ve handed me my revenge on you both on a big silver platter._   He released Lister and took a step back from him.  Lister rubbed his sore wrists and looked at him anxiously.  The double smiled.  He was damn well going to enjoy every second of this.  “Strip,” he ordered.

 

            “Lister?” Rimmer entered the sleeping quarters. They were dark.  “Lights!”  He looked around.  No Lister.  Nothing but an almost empty bottle of gin on the table.  Rimmer picked it up, sighed disapprovingly, then remembered the empty glasses of whisky downstairs and put it back sheepishly.  Alcohol, in whatever form, was not going to be the antidote to this problem.

           

            Lister lay, naked and shivering, in the bunk in the quarantine suite.  The double knelt over him, one hand resting lightly on the back of Lister’s neck, the other hand exploring.  The sex had been quick, for the most part painless, and from Lister’s side fairly pleasureless, but unfortunately it didn’t seem to be over yet.

            “Doesn’t this bring back memories?” the double said with bitter warmth.  His fingers traced the pattern of scars on Lister’s back and he felt him shudder.  “You remember how _connected_ we were that day?  You drawing out my pain through _your_ pain.  Remember how close we were?”

“I remember,” Lister said, without enthusiasm.

“Every single one of these scars represents us coming closer together, step by step.”  He pressed his thumb into a burn mark between Lister’s shoulder blades, “They bind us together.  Only yours are on the outside and mine are on the inside.”  Lister wriggled uncomfortably and Rimmer tightened his grip on the back of his neck. “Stay still.”

            Lister took a deep breath.  _It’s okay_ , he reminded himself, _this was your choice.  You decided this. Not him. Just give him what he wants now and you’ll be free of him forever._ Rimmer’s hand moved slowly down his back.  “We would have been happy, you know,” the double said, “Eventually.  If that bastard hadn’t ruined everything.  I would have taken care of you.  You wouldn’t have wanted for anything.”  _Except a pulse_ , Lister thought to himself.  He felt Rimmer’s hand first caress, then gently part his buttocks, and tensed.  “And all I wanted in return was your love.  That’s not too much to ask, is it?”  Cool fingers stroked, explored and slid up inside him and Lister gasped; a small desperate sound escaping his throat.  “Stay still,” Rimmer ordered again, more sharply this time.  Lister breathed deeply, trying to force himself to relax.

            The double was still speaking to him softly, “Well, you’re all mine now, aren’t you, Listy?”

“All yours,” Lister agreed weakly.  _So why won’t you just get this over with?_

“Although I have to say, I never thought it would happen like this.”

“No,” Lister agreed, unable to keep the sarcasm, or the tremble, out of his voice, “You thought you’d have to kill me first.”  Rimmer leant over him and gently nipped the back of his neck, his fingers curling very slightly upwards inside him.  Lister moaned helplessly.  “That’s right,” Rimmer whispered, “But no matter.  I’ll just kill you after I’m finished instead.” 

Lister froze, “ _What?_ ” 

            The double smiled widely.  If only he could preserve this moment forever, re-live that beautifully complex change in emotional and physiological response as fear began to take hold.  He bit the back of Lister’s neck again, hard this time, and savoured his sharp cry of pain.  “Oh, come on,” he said contemptuously.  He moved his lips close to Lister’s ear and whispered, “Did you honestly think just _sex_ would be enough?”


	9. Chapter 9

            “Holly, where is Lister?”

“Bay 47, Arnold.” 

Rimmer stopped mid-stride, anger already starting to rise within him.  Dammit, why wouldn’t he _listen?_   “Outside the quarantine suite?” he demanded.

“No.”  Rimmer relaxed slightly,

“Well, where then?  Where is he?”

“The quarantine suite.”

“You dilapidated, senile, old goit!  You just told me...” Rimmer started angrily.

“You asked me if he was _outside_ quarantine,” Holly replied resentfully, “And he isn’t.  He’s inside.”  Rimmer’s heart thudded.

“What do you mean he’s inside?”

“Gordon Bennett, how much simpler do you want it?  Lister is in the quarantine suite.  Inside as opposed to outside.  Within as opposed to without.  Comprende?”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know.  He shut off my view screen before he went in.”

“What???  Why???”

“How would I know?  He was mullered.  I mean, properly legless.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to inform anyone of this?” Rimmer practically screeched.  “Why?  You only wanted me to alert you if anyone came out – not went in.  Besides, he looked like he wanted some privacy.”  Rimmer was no longer listening.  He was sprinting down the corridor in search of the nearest lift.  “It’s not like anyone listens to me anyway,” Holly added sulkily.

 

             “That’s right, Listy,” Rimmer whispered with glowing satisfaction, “You told me I could have whatever I wanted, just like Ace, so I intend to take you up on the offer.  I’m going to take _everything_.  Your body, your pride, your dignity, all of it.  And _then_...I’m going to take your life.”

“This is stupid!” Lister told him desperately, struggling to try and free himself, “If you do anything to me, he’ll kill you!  The only reason he hasn’t done it already is because I’ve been holding him back.”

“I’m touched, Listy, but if that’s true then it makes you even stupider than I thought.”

“Let me go!”

“Not a chance.  You’re all mine now, remember?  That’s what you promised and now it’s finally time for you to deliver.” 

            “Fine!” Lister snarled, “You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, so let’s do it!  We’ll die in this room together!  It’ll be just what you always wanted, you get your happy ending!”

“I don’t think so.  I have no plans to hang around.  Before you die, you’re going to give me the code for this door.”

“Go to hell!”

“You first.  And I’ll make you suffer before you get there.  You know what I’m capable of, Listy,” Rimmer traced the pattern of scars on his back again meaningfully, his cock starting to swell into another erection, “How much it ends up hurting, well...that will be your decision.  You see, before I leave, I intend to pay a visit to the hologram simulation suite.  I imagine Kryten’s quite hot on keeping you all updated on disk, isn’t he?  Well, your disk is coming with me.  And with it, I’m taking my happy ending.  The ending I _should_ have had before he took you away from me.  That’s my revenge, Listy.  When he eventually comes down here and finds what’s left of you, he’ll know that I had from you what he never had.  And he’ll know that I’ve taken with me any chance of ever seeing you again.”

“You’re sick!”

“Maybe.  But ask yourself, Listy,” the double smiled grimly and reached down to his now fully engorged cock, “Just whose fault is that?” 

            With his other hand he grabbed Lister’s wrist and twisted his arm up hard behind his back, making him yelp with pain.  “Now, the code, if you please.”

“Spin on it!”  Lister snapped.  The double pulled harder and he screamed. 

“Six little numbers, Lister.  I’m sure you remember them.  You used them to come in here not that long ago.” 

“Yeah, _minutes_ ago,” Lister replied through gritted teeth, “I’ve had _injections_ that lasted longer than you!”  

“Would you like another one?  I’m sure I’ve got another dose in me.” The double didn’t just pull this time, he twisted.  Something in Lister’s shoulder crunched and he moaned in agony.  “Come on, speak up.  If you wanted it rough before, you only had to ask.”

“There wasn’t time,” Lister replied snidely.  However much this hurt, there was no way this bastard was ever going to hear him beg for mercy ever again.  “Not a smart answer, Listy,” the double said, with something like pity in his voice.

            There was a low snapping sound and pain flooded through his shoulder like hot lava; his fingers went numb.  He screamed and jerked sharply.  The movement caused the double to hit his head on the bunk roof and he let go of Lister’s wrist to rub the bump.  Lister seized his chance and threw himself sideways, rolling off the bed and tipping them both to the floor.

            He stumbled to his feet, but pain and alcohol combined forces to make him sway unsteadily.  He couldn’t run.  The double scrambled upright, grabbed hold of his locks, backhanded him hard across the face and threw him across the room.  He crashed into the table and landed in a heap on the floor, his shoulder throbbing with red-hot pain and his ears ringing.  Rimmer stalked over, grabbed him by the throat and dragged him to his feet, then slammed him back hard against the wall. 

            “Don’t try and get out of this, it’s too late!  Did you really think you could get the better of me?” he shouted furiously, shaking him, “Did you really think you could fix this with one stupid drunken _fuck?_   You thought I was pathetic enough to accept that as a substitute for the life we should have had together?”

“What life?!” Lister managed to shout back, “You’re dead and so would I have been if you’d had your way!”

“I would have brought you back!” he seethed.

“You never had any intention of bringing _me_ back!” Lister replied angrily, “You were bringing back some mindless, confused sex-slave with my face.  That’s all you wanted!”

“That’s not true!” The double paled with rage.

“Like smeg it’s not!”

“I would have made you happy!”

“No, you would have _programmed_ me to be happy!” Lister shouted back, “And done whatever the hell you wanted!” 

“So?  What’s the difference?” the double raged.

“The same difference,” Lister retorted, “Between a drunken pity fuck and real love.  And I hope you enjoyed the one, man, ‘cause guess what?  You’re never going to get the other.  Not from me.  Dead _or_ alive.”

            The double let out a bellow of rage, grabbed Lister’s jaw and slammed his head back hard against the wall.  “Tell me the door code!”

“Fuck you, Rimsy.” 

“Damn you, Lister!” He smashed his head back again, hard enough this time for Lister to see bruises behind his eyes, “Tell me that code!  Tell me or I’ll beat your smegging brains out!”

“Go ahead!” Lister replied stubbornly, “I’d hate to think you weren’t enjoying our last moments together.”

“Oh, I’ll enjoy it!” the double snarled, madness swirling in his eyes, “And when that two-faced, jumped-up, pompous, wig-headed asshole finally works out where you are and comes running down here to find your brains across the wall and your limbs scattered round the room like confetti, I’ll enjoy that too!”  He hesitated just long enough to see the flash of pain in Lister’s eyes as the thought of Rimmer hit home, then hauled his arm back, ready to shatter Lister’s skull against the gray metal wall.  And disappeared.

            Lister reeled, then winced as something hard fell heavily on his foot.  He looked down and saw a light-bee rolling across the floor.  “What...?” he whispered blankly, then crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

 


	10. Chapter 10

            When Lister woke up in the medi-bay, the first thing he saw was Rimmer’s face hovering over him.  “Oh, thank god, it’s you...” he whispered with relief, after a momentary flash of panic.  “You goit,” Rimmer said, his voice hoarse.  “You stupid, irresponsible, foolish, moronic smeghead!”

“Nice to see you too,” Lister remarked.

“Do you know...,” Rimmer spluttered, “I mean, do you have _any_ idea...”

“My head hurts,” Lister interrupted him.  Rimmer passed him a tub of asprin and continued berating him, “...just how idiotic and reckless you’ve been?!  Do you know how close you just came to killing yourself with that...that _stunt_?”

“I was drunk,” Lister muttered, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then.  We could have put that on your headstone.  ‘David Lister.  Three million years old.  He was drunk.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.’  What on Io were you _thinking_?  Was it really worth risking your life just to try and hurt me?”

“What?” Lister asked, dumbfounded.

“That’s what all this was about, wasn’t it?  First Ace, then him.  Rubbing it in my face.  Were you just trying to prove that you would rather be with _anyone_ other than me?”

“What?” Lister said again.  He struggled to sit upright, hindered by his aching, tightly bandaged shoulder.  “No!  No, no, no!  You’ve got it all wrong!”

“Well, why else, in the name of all that exists in the universe, would you go waltzing up to an insane psychopath who has already tried to kill you - not just once but _twice_ – and...and...?!” Rimmer trailed off, unable to even say it.

            Lister shook his head, “Look, man, I know it was stupid.  And now, in the cold sober light of day, it doesn’t even make any sense.  But I was trying to fix things.  In my own stupid, hopeless way, I was trying to make things right.”

“By getting hammered and having sex with something.  Yes, that sounds like your normal brand of logic.”

“I thought it would...help him,” Lister said falteringly, “I thought if I let him...if we just did it and got it over with...that he could move on.  That we could _all_ move on.”

“You thought just sex would be enough?” Rimmer said scathingly.  Lister winced and looked away, “That’s exactly what he said.” 

            Rimmer sighed hard and turned away from him.  “And I don’t suppose,” he said harshly, “That you considered at any point how I might feel about this plan of yours.”

“You were part of the plan,” Lister told him gently.  Rimmer looked back at him, confused.  “I tried to find you,” Lister said, “I was going to make things right with you - with _us_ \- as well.”  Rimmer’s shoulders drooped as he turned to him.

“I’ll say it again,” he said wearily, “Did you really think just sex would be enough?”

“It might have been a start,” Lister said softly.

“Not last night, it wouldn’t.  You don’t knock boots with the inebriated.  It’s against the rules.  Ace doesn’t take advantage.” 

            Lister narrowed his eyes at the words, “I’ve got news for you, Rimmer.  He does.”  Rimmer looked at him with obvious surprise. 

“You mean...when you...and he...You were drunk?”

“No,” Lister replied, “That’s not what I meant.  But you don’t have to be drunk to be vulnerable.  All those girls that swoon into his arms once they’ve been rescued, you think they’re all thinking straight?  After kidnapping and near-death experiences?  They’re probably all suffering from post-traumatic stress!”

“And what were you suffering from?”

“Loneliness,” Lister said, “And believe me, that was enough.”

“Either way,” Rimmer said, “If I’d found you last night I’d have stuck you under a cold shower and into bed.  No funny business.”

“Even if I’d begged?”

“Even if you’d stripped naked and danced.”

“How disappointingly noble of you.  Almost makes me yearn for the Rimmer I used to know, who would shag a woman suffering from concussion without a second thought.”

“Yvonne was not concussed!  And this has nothing to do with nobility, this is about having some dignity.  I don’t need or want any meaningless token pity sex from you.  I still have some pride, thank you very much.”

            Lister could tell there was something else Rimmer was holding back.  He took a deep breath and rubbed tentatively at his shoulder.  “Is it broken?”

“Yes, but not too badly.  It’ll mend okay.  I was more worried about your head, but the x-rays came back fine.  I’ll keep you in overnight, just in case.”

“So go on.  Tell me then.  What’s the bad news?”

“What bad news?”

“You look shiftier than Cat when he’s got a furball brewing.  There’s something you’re not telling me.”  He gave Rimmer a look, “How is _he_ doing?”

“Pretty cold, I imagine,” Rimmer said flatly, “He must be in orbit somewhere around that last planetoid we passed, by now.” 

            Lister stared at him, “Excuse me?”

“He’s gone, Lister.  Flushed.”

“You...” Lister was flabbergasted, “How could...I thought...!”

“At least you can comfort yourself that he went out on a high,” Rimmer remarked coldly.

 “You did this because I had sex with him?!” Lister asked accusingly.

“No,” Rimmer said impatiently, “I did it because when I got to the quarantine suite he was in the process of beating you to death.”

“You only had to deactivate him and get me out.  You didn’t have to flush him!”

“Sooner or later we were going to have to make the decision.  He never would have agreed to the personality edit. This mess just meant it happened sooner rather than later.”  

“You don’t know that!  You had no right!” Lister said angrily.

            “Why do you care?” Rimmer demanded, angry himself now, “I mean, for God’s sake, Lister!  How many times does someone have to try and murder you before you cross them off your Christmas card list?  When you think of everything that man did to you, everything he _would_ have done to you given the chance, how can you possibly be sorry that he’s gone?”

“Are you _jealous?_ ”

“Jealous, angry, confused – the lot!” Rimmer shouted, “I just do not understand where you are coming from.  Do you get _off_ on people hurting you?”

“Rimmer!”

“Is it the drama?  Is that what does it for you?”

“Will you stop!  What is the matter with you?”

“Just explain to me, Lister.  Help me understand why, after everything, you are still sticking up for that...that _creature!_ ”

“Why do you think?” Lister shouted back, “Because he’s _you_ , you idiot!  Because I wouldn’t let anyone do to you what you did to him, no matter what you’d done!  Because if you were the one who’d done all those things to me, I’d still want to do everything I could to fix you!  And he deserved the same!  That’s why!”

            Rimmer, shaken, took a step back.  Lister slumped down miserably against his pillows.  “This is all my fault,” he said hollowly. 

“No, it isn’t,” Rimmer said quietly, “Don’t say that.”  Lister ignored him and put his hands over his face, “If I hadn’t gone down there...”

“I’d already made the decision before I realised you were missing last night,” Rimmer told him, “When I found you, well, it just cemented it.  This isn’t because of what you did.  This is because of what he did.  What he was.”

“But what if he could have changed?”

“How many chances do you think we should have given him, Lister?”

“As many as he needed.”

“Just one chance and he would have killed you.”

“Maybe.”

            Rimmer sighed, frustrated, “ _‘Maybe?’_   Lister, you have got to start being realistic.”

“I wonder,” Lister’s gaze was distant, far-away, “If he’d got what he wanted, if he’d had my hologram to himself for all eternity, loving him, worshipping him, if that would have been enough to change him.”

“I don’t know,” Rimmer said stiffly, “And it would have been a very high price to pay to find out.”

“It’s weird but...when he was telling me about his plans and the life he had all planned out for us, he kept telling me how happy he was going to make me.  In his own way, I think he genuinely believed it too.  He didn’t just want to be with me, he wanted me to like being with him, even if it was just an illusion.  I suppose there’s an _element_ of goodness in that.  Kind of. ”

“If you’re looking through a microscope!” Rimmer exclaimed, “And maybe if his plan had all worked out when he kidnapped you, there would have been an _element_ of that to begin with.  But how long would that have lasted for?  If you ask me, he wanted to hurt you far more than he wanted to make you happy.  And when he came back here, that was the _only_ thing he wanted.  I know you want to believe that there’s good in everybody, and that love can conquer all, but it doesn’t always work that way.”

“I know that.  But I also know there’s good in _you_.”

“That doesn’t mean there was good in _him_.  He wasn’t me,” Rimmer hesitated before adding bitterly, “And I’m not Ace.  We’re all different people, it’s just the template stays the same.”

“Same cutter, different cookie,” Lister mused softly.

“Something like that.”

            Lister looked at him dolefully, “You _really_ believe he was beyond all help?”

“I’m sure of it.  You didn’t hear some of the things he said to us down there, Lister.  Awful, horrible things.  That’s part of why I tried so hard to keep you away.  Not just because I was worried about the effect it would have on him, or because I was scared of what he might tell you about me, but because there were things that came out of his mouth that would have haunted you forever.  If he couldn’t fuck your body, he would have fucked with your head.  I didn’t want that.  You had enough bad memories to deal with.”  Lister took this in.

“He said things about me?”

“Yes.  Messed-up things.  And I’m not going to repeat any of them, so don’t ask.”

“Fair enough,” Lister replied, silently resolving to dig out the black box tapes and find out for himself.

            “Are you feeling okay now?” Rimmer asked him briskly, changing the subject.  Lister looked at him, surprised, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Good.  Then I’ll leave you to have a rest.”  He turned to leave.  Lister bristled slightly, “That’s it?”

“Were you expecting something else?” Rimmer asked loftily.

“Well, considering that I almost just _died_ I thought you might at least tell me you’re glad I’m okay!”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Lister.”

“You don’t even sound like you mean it!”

“Well, maybe that’s because I’m still a teensy bit peeved about _how_ you almost died.”

“Oh, great,” Lister said sarcastically, “Another mistake for you to hold against me forever.  You Rimmers know how to hold a grudge, don’t you?”

“Are you surprised?”

“I didn’t do this to hurt you.”

“It doesn’t matter why you did it,” Rimmer told him, “It’s done.”

“So you don’t care about me anymore, is that it?  More trouble than I’m worth?”

Rimmer glared at him angrily.  “You know how I feel about you,” he told him coldly and turned to leave.

            Lister stopped him with a shout, “No, I don’t!  Because you’re not all the same, Rimmer!  And unlike him, you never had the balls to say it!”  Rimmer stopped and took a deep breath.  Lister bit his lip.  Too far, he wondered?  When Rimmer turned to face him, his face was stony.  “There was never any point in me saying it,” he told Lister flatly, “When you couldn’t say it back.”  He marched out.  Lister called after him, “Rimmer, come back here!  This is not...!  _Rimmer!_ ”

            But he was gone.

           

 


	11. Chapter 11

            The next morning, once Lister had got the all-clear from Kryten and escaped the medi-bay, he went to hunt down Rimmer.  He found him in his old quarters, packing things solemnly into a small carry case.  “What are you doing?” he asked plaintively.  Rimmer straightened up and turned to face him with a grave expression.  “Going back to work,” he said simply.

“You’re _leaving_?”

“Ace still has a job to do.  And you’re safe now.  I’m not needed here anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!  This isn’t about being needed.  You belong here with us. This is your _home_ , man.”

“I’ve never _belonged_ anywhere, Lister.  Maybe that’s why so many of us take up the mantle as Ace, forever jumping from one dimension to another.”

“Trying to find somewhere you’ll fit in?”

“Trying to forget that we don’t.” Rimmer screwed up a shirt very tightly and crammed it into the bag.  “That’s not true.  I know life here wasn’t always rosy, but we were a team, Rimmer, the four of us.”

“Maybe we were once, but things change.”

“They don’t have to.”

“They already have.”

“Because of what I did last night?” Lister demanded.           

             Rimmer sighed sadly and went back to packing his things, “Not only that.  We can’t go back to the way it was, Lister.  You and me...It’s all too messed up.  We can’t go back to being ‘team-mates’, as if yesterday never happened.”

“So what then?  You’re just going to leave and pretend _none_ of it ever happened?  That there never was a Red Dwarf, a Starbug, a life here?  You’re going to forget all about _me_?”

“I’ll never forget you,” Rimmer said quietly, “But yes, I think that would be for the best.”

“That isn’t what I want.”

“It’s the only way.”

“Oh, come on!” Lister said desperately, “You can’t go!  What’ll I do next time someone tries to kill me?”

“Try not to drive anyone else crazy,” Rimmer replied dryly, by way of advice. 

            He picked up his light bee remote, ready to switch his settings back to Ace mode.  Lister snatched it from him and tossed it across the room.  Rimmer looked at him, exasperated.  “What are you?  Eight?”

“I’m not letting you do this.”

“I don’t need you to let me.  This is my decision.”

“Well, it’s the wrong one!  You told me that you took over as Ace because you felt you had something to prove.  And you proved it.  So why go back to risking your life every day for strangers?”

“All I proved,” Rimmer said sadly, “Is that some things are just not meant to be.  And the two of us having any kind of healthy relationship - whether that’s as shipmates or anything else - after everything that’s gone on, is one of them.”

“You’re not even willing to _try_?”

“I have tried.  I wanted this to work, believe me, I wanted that more than anything.  But I just cannot _be_ with you, Lister.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because it hurts too much,” Rimmer told him flatly, “I can live knowing that you’re here, alive and well, even if it means never seeing you again.  But I can’t live knowing that you’re within reach, sleeping on the other side of the wall, and knowing that that’s as close as I’ll ever get.” 

            Lister gazed at him, speechless.  “Maybe we’d be fine for a week, a month, maybe a year, maybe ten.  But sooner or later things would start to unravel.  I think I would start to hate you.  I think I would...I would turn into him.  And there’s only one way that could possibly end.”

“You’re not like him,” Lister whispered.

“Not yet, but one day I could be.  And I won’t risk becoming that.  I won’t risk hurting you.  Or worse...”  He crossed the room, picked up his light bee remote, then zipped his bag and lifted it onto his shoulder.  Lister moved to stand in front of the door. 

            “So, you’re just going to run away again,” he said accusingly, “Instead of talking about this and trying to sort things out, you’re going to turn tail and run, and then pretend that you’re doing it for me.  Is that it?”

“There’s nothing left to talk about, Lister.  It’s all been said.  We both know the score.”

“Do we?” Lister asked angrily, “Because I’m not sure I do and I’m pretty damn smegging sure that you don’t!”

“Whatever the intricacies are,” Rimmer replied sharply, “I don’t think they’ll change the end result.”

“So, my feelings are just _intricacies_ now?” Lister glared at him, “They don’t matter anymore in the whole grand scheme of Ace Rimmer’s plans?”   

“And what feelings would these be?” Rimmer asked, rolling his eyes.

            Lister fumed.  He didn’t know where to begin.  “Do you think,” he said haltingly, trying to keep his temper, “That I’m some heartless...unfeeling... _boyslut_ , who’s only interested in using meaningless sex as a means to an end?!  What happened with Ace that day, do you really think my head was turned that far by some shiny boots and a hairdo?  Do you think I had sex with that crazy bastard last night to get some kind of _fix_?”

“What are you getting at, Lister?” Rimmer asked impatiently.

“I can understand you thinking there was no hope for any kind of future for us before you found out about Ace,” he told him angrily, “But now?  Do you think I’m so shallow that I’d sleep with him but push _you_ away because you didn’t have the right _hair_?  Do you think I’d give enough of a damn about how your delusional double felt to sleep with him, and not care enough about you to do the same?” Lister demanded.

“Well, I...” Rimmer stammered, clearly taken aback.

“...And now you’ve got the nerve to stand there and tell me that it’s better that we never see each other again, because I don’t feel the same way you do?” Lister exploded, ploughing on, “How could you _possibly_ reach that assumption after everything that’s happened?”  

“Because I’m not talking about sex here, Lister,” Rimmer interrupted sternly, “I don’t want a one-night stand borne of desperation, or pity.  I don’t want to be a substitute or a charity case.  What I want is a real relationship.  I want _love_.”

“And you think I don’t?” Lister shouted back.

“No,” Rimmer replied flatly, “Not with me.”

            Lister stared at him, wounded.  “I know you, Lister,” Rimmer went on, “I know what your dream is.  A farm, Fiji and Kristine Kochanski.  A wife, kids and a cat.  Not a dead man with an inferiority complex.” 

“Rimmer,” Lister replied, exasperated, “Kochanski is dead.  Fiji, if it still exists, is a very long way away.  All of those things are part of a future I lost long ago.  I think it’s time to shift those goalposts a little.”

“As far as this?  Are you really ready to give up any chance of a normal life?  A family?  I don’t think so.  I think all it would take is one sniff of a functioning female and your priorities would very rapidly change.  I’m not enough to make you happy.”

“Unlike you, Rimmer, I see women as people.  Not sex-toys or baby factories,” Lister replied coolly.  “I would never throw you over for a stranger just so I could get a child out of her.  Maybe, if we ever found a woman out here, she’d be kind enough to help us out with that, maybe she wouldn’t.  Maybe there’s technology somewhere that would mean we’d never have to ask.  Either way, I don’t want to have to wait around to find out.  I want to live my life, and I want to live it _with_ someone.”

“So shack up with the Cat.”

“Cat doesn’t love me.”

“Kryten does.”

“ _That_ is the most disturbing suggestion I’ve ever heard.  And anyway...” Lister took a cautious step towards him, “It’s not the same kind of love.  Neither of them have saved my life on three seperate occasions.  They’ve never fired themselves out of a cannon for me.”  He looked up into Rimmer’s eyes, “They’ve never _killed_ for me.”

            “Neither of them has ever piloted a ship out of the event horizon of an imploding black hole, saving everyone on board before either,” Rimmer muttered with a certain amount of satisfaction.  “To smeg with that,” Lister told him, “I don’t care about the heroics of Ace.  I care about the heroics of Rimmer.  _My_ Rimmer.  My hero.  The man I love.”

            Rimmer looked at him sharply.  Lister looked back openly.  “There.  _I_ said it,” he told Rimmer calmly, “Now can you?”

“You don’t mean it,” Rimmer shook his head.

“Why would I lie?” Lister asked, frustrated, “Why would I be in here, asking you to stay with me, if I didn’t mean it?”

“I don’t know,” Rimmer replied fretfully, “Guilt?  Loneliness?  Post-traumatic stress?” he asked pointedly, “All of the above?”

“Listen, when he told me last night that he was going to kill me, I wasn’t scared,” Lister confessed, “Even when he was beating my head against the wall, I didn’t beg for my life.  And I wouldn’t have done.  Until he said something to me about you.  How you were going to find me down there, dead, in pieces.  How he was going to enjoy your pain when you saw what he’d done to me.  And at that moment, if you hadn’t turned him off, I would have begged.  Not for myself, but because I couldn’t bear to think about how much what I’d done would hurt you.”  He carefully examined Rimmer’s face, “Is that enough to convince you?” he asked softly.

            Rimmer put his bag down and stepped forward, closing the slight distance still between them.  He took Lister’s face in his hands and gazed at him searchingly.  “I want to believe you,” he whispered unhappily, “I really do.”

“What else can I say?” Lister asked helplessly, “What can I do?”  Then he answered his own question, by pushing himself up on tiptoe and pressing his lips to Rimmers.

            It was nothing like that first kiss with Ace.  It was better.  It was electric.  When they drew apart, Lister whispered, “Will that do it?”

“Yes,” Rimmer gasped, “That’ll do it.”  Lister kissed him again, wrapping his arms up around his neck and pulling him closer. 

“Can you say it now?” he asked when they finally stopped to breathe.  Rimmer squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain and touched their foreheads together.  “I love you, David Lister,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Arnie J Rimmer,” Lister said, smiling.

“So you’re really mine?  Forever and ever?”

“I’d like to say ‘for as long as we both shall live’, but that’s maybe not appropriate.”

“Just because I’ve said it now, doesn’t mean you can start taking the piss.”

“Sorry.  Couldn’t resist.”  

            Lister curled his fingers around Rimmer’s and held them tight.  “How about this?  If you ever need to remind yourself that I’m all yours, forever and ever, then there’s a very simple way to do it.”

“Which is?”  Lister gently pulled Rimmer’s arms around him and guided his hands to his back, easing them up underneath his shirt.  Rimmer swallowed hard as his fingers slid over Lister’s warm bare skin.  He felt the slight ridges of scar tissue there and stroked them cautiously.  “Feel that?” Lister whispered.    

“What?” Rimmer whispered back.

“It’s your name.  It’s tattooed on my back, remember?” Lister whispered, “And it’s been there, and on my heart, since the day you rescued me.”

            Rimmer kissed him, hard.  Lister began to slowly unbutton his shirt, and set about evening up the scorecard once and for all. __


End file.
